The Reason For His Life
by UchidaKarasu
Summary: KakaIta, ItaKaka. "For a while now, the silver haired man had been trying to keep his sanity."


**The Reason For His Life**

**-UchidaKarasu-**

**~oOo~**

For a while now, the silver haired man had been trying to keep his sanity.

After watching people, so many people die, it was a feat upon itself that he wasn't completely crazy. He had seen his silver haired, infamous father push a kunai through his heart, the blood seeping out of the fatal wound and killing himself in front of his six-year-old son. He had watched as his loud and obnoxious friend had been crushed because he had been too late to change what happened to the goggle-clad child. He had seen his maroon haired friend die in a battle that he should've been able to prevent, a battle he could have fought himself and saved her life, but didn't because the mission was so important... He had watched his sensei give his own life to save the silver haired man's home, his village, from a fire-breathing monster one hundred stories tall and crushing the lush land below. He had watched his comrades die one after another, in battles and fights and bloody matches to the death, where he should've been able to protect them, every last one of them, from their inevitable ends, because he had been the leader, the captain, the one who should've protected them.

However, watching friends and family and comrades die couldn't hold a candle to what was happening to him right now, and had been happening for some time. Maybe it was the thrill of it, or perhaps the forbidden nature, for s-class criminals weren't to be trifled with, especially ones that had been hunted by the village he was immensely loyal to. It also didn't help that said s-class criminal, a murder of many innocent people, was the older brother to his moody, seemingly superiour student that swore revenge on the small, dark haired eighteen-year-old that was currently in his window.

His handsome face was shrouded in moonlight and darkness, his eyes glinting through the dim shadows. The silver haired man knew that these eyes were blood red, a deep and rich scarlet that could reduce even the strongest man into a slave. Eyes that could absorb and caress and kill with a heat so fiery that one couldn't help but scream with either pain or pleasure, depending on what the dark man's mind wanted. His skin was pale, so pale that it seemed like it was the soft flesh of a corpse, or perhaps the undead, and it glowed in the darkness, a beacon to lust and power. The rest of his features were unidentifiable, due to the blackness and the black hair hanging around his face and in his eyes, hair a soft black with deep brown undertones, hair that was long and smooth as silk and a dream to bury fingers in. The black hitai-ate and band held most of it at bay, but the tendrils at the front tended to escape their prison, outlining the face that seemed like an apparition.

He was seated on his window, his small and lithe frame fitting easily into the small square. His legs were hanging into the silver haired man's bedroom, all but hidden under that slightly bulky black coat with the crimson clouds stitched in. His arms were gone, folded together on his lap, melting with the rest of his dark form as if he did not have arms at all, although the silver haired man knew for a fact that he had arms under there, strong and pale arms with slender and clever fingers that could do the most wicked things to a person. Only his black ninja regulation boots with the white stirrup leg guards and the upper portion of his heavily shadowed face showed in the darkness, and it didn't matter, because he was gorgeous all the while.

The first time the Uchiha prodigy had sat in his window sill, a full seven months ago, they had fought. Not with words, but with sharp blades and clenched fists and chakra exploding from fingertips. The silver haired man hated to fight him, for it was so hard, because before everything had fallen into destruction, he had loved the child with all his heart. He had watched him grow up, and fight to survive, and develop into a quiet, peaceful, and beautiful being with everything at his disposal. With agony and hate in his heart for the small child that had turned away, the silver haired man had tried to destroy him, tried to force him into admitting _why_ he left, _why_ he had to hurt his little brother, _why_ he had left _him_. But the small, lithe eighteen-year-old had said nothing, didn't need to say anything, because he was in enemy territory, in the elder's room as if waiting for something, and without knowing how it had happened or why it happened, the silver haired man had broken. Clenched fists turned into caressing fingers, and fingertips laced with chakra turned into hot and demanding digits, and sharp blades were dropped for hungry and starved lips. He couldn't get enough of him, couldn't stop loving him, couldn't stop touching him and loving him. He had turned himself, in a different way than Uchiha Itachi, but had turned just the same. He had turned from a nineteen-year-old man loving a thirteen-year-old child for being a wonderful child to a twenty-eight-year-old man loving a seventeen-year-old man with his body and his heart, with a brief period of hate in-between.

He couldn't look at Sasuke the same. Couldn't look at any of his three students the same after he had stolen that taboo night with a madman, a murderer, a man with so much heat and passion underlying in that cold exterior that he had nearly burned from it all. How could he look at them, knowing that they all hated the long haired seventeen-year-old because he had destroyed the life of his brother _just to see if he could_. He knew that they would know, that they would see that every time Itachi was brought up, that he would flinch and colour under that mask, the heat building from what his lips had done to the silver haired man in a night of stolen solitude.

This was the fifth time he had found Uchiha Itachi sitting there, eyes glinting with heat and lust and darkness, and he forgot what he had planned to say to the seventeen-year-old for the fourth time: _This can't go on, you need to leave, I'll kill you, I hate you, I need you to get away from me_. He just couldn't say it to him, that glorious man with that dangerous look in his eyes, because he _never_ wanted it to end, and he _never_ wanted him to leave, and he could _never_ kill him, and he could _never_ hate him, and he could _never_ make Itachi leave. Itachi was now someone that could never leave or the silver haired man would die just like his family and comrades and friends. He _needed_ him like the air he breathed, Sasuke and the village be damned, because nothing could take the lithe man away from him without hell to pay.

For a while they just stared at each other, but then the small form breathed in the smallest whisper, "Kakashi...", and he broke. He couldn't help it. It was so easy when that small, hot mouth whispered his name, and he welcomed the flare of heat that exploded into his tall, wiry frame. With a large step towards the seventeen-year-old's direction and a hand that pulled away his restricting mask, he advanced on the dark haired man and caught him in a smoldering kiss.

Maybe Itachi being here, in all his dangerous glory, was the reason why he hadn't went crazy. For with all the hiding and the secrecy and the pain and the erotic happenings, Itachi had kept him sane.

Maybe Uchiha Itachi was the reason Hatake Kakashi was still alive.

**~Owari~**


End file.
